


Mansions of Madness: First Files

by Samoacookie27



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Mansions of Madness (Board Game)
Genre: Multi, Paranormal Investigators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23498614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samoacookie27/pseuds/Samoacookie27
Summary: The story before the story. Just how did all these people from different walks of life meet? It's all here in their first files.
Kudos: 2





	Mansions of Madness: First Files

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Michael McGlen, bites off more than he can chew one night, and is saved by a rogue catholic priest of all things.

A sluice of colorful swears flowed out from Michael McGlen's mouth as he staggered down the trash strewn alley way. In one hand he held a spent tommy gun, the other dyed red with his own lifes blood. It was all he could do to keep his guts from falling out-having run out of bandages a while back.

While Michael had managed to wipe out the majority of those robe wearing weirdos, one of them managed to hang on long enough to cast some sort of magic spell to lash at his side. Just reliving the recent events sent a fresh snarl from the seasoned gangsters throat. Sure it hurt like a bitch, but he wouldn't die here-he'd promised himself-Louie, that he wouldn't die or rest until every creepy crawly and fisheyed freak paid for taking him away from him. For now, he just had to focus on getting out of this alley.

"C'mon McGlen, almost there..." the tough Irishman rasped, determination rising in his chest despite the sound of the surviving cultists getting closer. If he could just make it to his car...

McGlen didn't know what he expected to happen finally breaking free of that narrow alley, but it wasn't having his knees give out only to have him collapsing at the feet of a doe eyed priest.

" _Dios mio! "_ he gasped, dropping his bag of groceries to help the wounded man " are you alright?"

" Do I 'look' alright?" McGlen snapped, smacking the priest's hands away "just get outta here before they see you!"

Whatever argument the young priest had, died on his lips when two robed men and a woman appeared sporting matching robes.

"There's the non-believer" she screeched, brandishing a dagger.

"Shite..." this couldn't be the end. Darkness was creeping unbidden from the corners of his eyes, he'd lost too much blood. However it seemed fate still had one more surprise in store for old Michael.

"Stay right here" the commanding tone from the priest caught him off guard. Was this really the same man who had been fretting over him not a moment before?The priest stoox straight, and withdrew a simple wooden cross from his pocket. With his fading consciousness, McGlen watched the strange priest step forth, whispering hurried words that sounded the furthest thing from a catholic prayer. Green runes lit up, etched into the cross, causing the cultist to the halt their advances.

"A magic caster!"

" Watchout you fools!"

It was too late to run. 

Acid green clouds engulfed the three, the sight that followed was a gruesome one indeed, but McGlen couldn't help but feel a glimmer of twisted glee at their plight. Blood spurted from every orifice, the cultists shrieked wretchedly before falling to the ground, dead.

Just before he passed out, Michael could see his rescuer, bathed in the light if the streetlamps, his dark overcoat billowing out behind him as the wind caught it.

" _Requiem per dolorem"._

_____________________

The next time he came to, McGlen found himself laying on a simple bed in a sparse room. The only other furniture being a chair and a bench which held his socks and shoes. His sport coat and shirt were nowhere to be found. The light of morning shown through the single high window. Where was he? This certainly didn't look like Hell.

Carefully, he brushed his hand over where his wound had been, finding the flesh had been knitted back together leaving only a ugly scar. The priest's handy work no doubt.

Trying and failing to sit up, the gangster fell back on the sheets, hitting his head on the iron backboard. Said priest must have been right outside the door, or his indignant yell of pain was that loud for the young priest burst through the door, instantly at his side. His freshly mended and laundered clothes tucked under his arm.

"Please sir, don't try to get up. You were so badly hurt before".

McGlen groaned ill temperedly, sliding back under the wool blanket. "You're that fella' from last night".

"Ah! Oh yes, I have not properly introduced myself have I? My name is Father Mateo Castile, and you're in a safe place, mister-?"

"Mike, just call me Mike".

"Of course, Mike" Father Mateo nodded.

"This your 'miracle work' Father?" Michael asked patting his healed side.

The young priest smiled tiredly, suppressing a ugly cough. Was he unwell?

"'Y-yes that...I was able to heal your flesh but your blood loss is another matter. You'll have to take it easy for a few days". 

"This isn't a hospital is it, why didn't you take me there instead?"

Mateo,shifted uneasily, rubbing his shoulder awkwardly "Well no it isn't. I just assumed-given the circumstances-you wouldn't want to go there".

" 'Circumstances' ?"

" Don't take it the wrong way, but a ordinary gentleman doesn't run around with a Thompson and cultists in the middle of the night".

McGlen laughed "And a ordinary priest doesn't wipe out three guys with a magic spell. Where'd you learn to do that anyway?"

"Oh it's a long story".

Michael smirked "I got time".

Mateo smiled shyly "True".

The End


End file.
